


pretty when you're mine

by mysecretfriends



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Dom/sub, F/M, Light BDSM
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-12
Updated: 2013-05-12
Packaged: 2017-12-11 14:50:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,487
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/799943
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mysecretfriends/pseuds/mysecretfriends
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Your name is Equius Zahhak. And you know you will never be more than a mere play thing for the girl you love.</p>
            </blockquote>





	pretty when you're mine

**Author's Note:**

> [First time writing smut.  
> Warning: Use of nook/bulge  
> Word Count: 3,502]

     Your name is Equius Zahhak. And, right now, you’re completely at the mercy of the object of your lust-filled fantasies. The part of you that isn’t blinded by your hormones realizes how wrong this is, the burgundy-colored blood girl standing over you, controlling you. It’s so wrong, so depraved, and that’s exactly why you like it. But, sometimes she can be rough, too rough, like she is meticulously trying to find a way to break you. She has done so many unspeakable acts to you already and this, of course, is just another and you can’t help but revel in the attention that she’s given you — even if it is negative.

     At least she’s paying attention to you, the pathetic part of your brain whispers. At least she looks at you now.

     Yes, she certainly pays attention to you, the scars and dark bruises that blossom on your slate-colored skin are enough to prove that much. Not that you willingly go and show others; to be fraternizing with someone of such common when you are so high on the spectrum yourself is disgraceful. In fact, you always feel a certain amount of shame after she leaves. You feel disgusting and you’re angry with yourself, but you never do anything to stop it because you’ve only had eyes for this girl for as long as you could remember.

     She didn’t return your red-flushed sentiments, but instead twisted it to something that likens to blackrom in her mind. You know you should hate it, you should fight it, but you don’t. Nothing could make you loathe her. In your eyes, she is perfect — well, almost. If only her blood was higher, though not too high. If she was higher than you, then you would never be good enough for her.

     Not like you are, now, but those are little details you overlook.

     But, something about you must spark her interest, otherwise she certainly wouldn’t be using you like a toy. You think it probably has to do when you made that robot replica of her, of how you programmed her to love you. Yes, that most likely has to do with her cold hatred for you.

     Some people would say that your plan backfired, but you say it just took a different turn than you had originally intended. And, you’re perfectly okay with it. After all, she wouldn’t be here, in your hive, binding your arms behind your back and asking if you’ll be a good boy if it had went horribly wrong, right? Right.

     You feel her fingers curl into your hair, her nails grazing your scalp, and perspiration begins to dot your skin once more. She pulls, hard, hard enough to elicit a flinch, which makes her lips curve into a cruel sort of smile as she forces you to look up at her. She says you always make the most exquisite expressions of pain, her tone borderline mocking. In answer, your body trembles with need, you begin to perspire even more. She gives a triumphant little smirk that stirs excitement deep in the pit of your belly.

     You don’t care what others might think. Of what she thinks of you. She’s beautiful, a goddess, in these moments of cruelty. And, you can’t exactly say you don’t deserve it, those claw marks and bites and bruises that mar your skin, that tells the world that your body belongs solely to hers and no one else. You would never even dream of going against her, your mistress of burgundy blood.

     Her nails scrape down your cheek, her fingers grip your chin tightly, and you lick your lips nervously. You can’t help but wonder what she has planned for tonight, of how much pain and pleasure your body will be able to endure. She always tests your limits, always pushing them, but she never seems quite satisfied.  
You secretly dream of the day she lets you return the favor. Of the day when she lets you touch and caress and suckle every inch of her flesh. The thought already has your bulge hardening and it doesn’t go unnoticed. Sharp eyes narrow and she just laughs, a throaty sound.  
“Always so eager to play,” she murmurs and you just nod in agreement, your voice failing you.

     Her thumb traces your yielding lips and you wrap them around the digit happily, suckling almost greedily, wishing it was her bulge in your mouth, wishing you could pleasure her as much as she pleasures you. She lets you do this for a time before she pulls away, wiping your saliva off on your shoulder with a look of distaste before she demands you sit, legs spread. You do, with quick, fumbling movements. You’re used to working around the balance issues that having your arms bound present, but sometimes you move too fast and you trip. This time, you’ve caught yourself, hard on your backside, and she just laughs again.  
You flush blue and give a small, nervous smile.

     She kneels before you, dragging over the small pouch full of toys she always brings and digs around until her eyes brighten. You bite your lower lip as you watch with anticipation, wondering what had caught her interest, and are rewarded with a glimpse of a black, rubbery ring far too large for fingers. You have no idea what it is, but don’t want to ask, knowing it’s purpose will show itself soon enough. She rolls it slowly down your bulge until it’s settled, tight, around the base of your shaft. You feel your appendage trying to wrap itself around her wrist, completely against your will, but she doesn’t seem to mind.

     Instead, she toys with you, rubbing her thumb over the tip, causing you to sigh. But, that’s not what interests her tonight. It’s obvious by the way she teases you so idly, the look of boredom on her face before she pulls her hand away, leaving you craving more of her touch. You swallow back a plea, knowing that begging never does any good with her. She’ll do what she pleases, when she pleases, regardless of your needs.

     Her hands grip your thighs, nails biting into your skin with enough pressure to bruise, and she forces your legs wider apart as she bends low. Her curls cascade down her shoulders as her head bobs down between your legs, lips brushing against the outer folds of your nook. You shudder, toes curling slightly from the small gesture. Slowly, teasingly, her tongue rolls along the length of your nook and you can’t help the moan of pleasure that escapes you. Never would you allow anyone other than her to even think of invading such a personal space — you likened being penetrated to something like demoralization, though you never really understood why. But, this, this wasn’t demoralizing in the least. This was perfect. Beyond perfect, really, and you were completely okay with it.

     And, it seems by the subtle arch of your hips that your body does not seem to mind too much, either.

     With her thumbs, she spreads the outer lips of your slit and seems to content herself with focusing on the inner folds of your sensitive flesh. She takes her time, too, every lick seeming agonizingly slow for your tastes. Even if she went quickly, even if you came much too early, she would continue with you until you were collapsed in a puddle of your own genetic material, a trembling, sweating mess.

     Her lips wrap around your clit and she sucks, eliciting another groan from you, and you lift your hips to get closer to her mouth, her breath hot against you. Her tongue grinds against the inner walls of your nook, slowly at first and then quickly, tasting every inch of you that she could reach. You’re already beginning to tremble gently at her touch and the noises escaping your lips are soft, pleading. She takes a moment to suck away a few traces of your cum before she dives her tongue deep into your folds once more, pushing faster, harder, her nails digging into your skin. You press the back of your head to the floor, panting her name and she just laughs against you, the sensation causing you to shudder. The vibrations of the noise pulse through your entire being and your body involuntarily arches up more, nearly grinding your hips into her face.

     And, she allows this, even rewarding you by beginning to suck on your engorged clit, tongue moving inside, tasting and probing. You can feel your muscles clenching against her as your heart rate accelerates, as you come closer and closer toward an orgasm. She senses this, too, with the way she teases you so cruelly, with the way she begins to suckle harder, her tongue moving quicker. You let out a low cry as you have your release, but your suddenly struck by a new sensation. A rather painful one at that.

     As she pulls away, licking the last traces of you away from her lips, she flicks the tip of your bulge lightly and you flinch as it pulses painfully. You’re quickly beginning to realize the purpose of the ring she had put around you; your bulge was wrapped so tightly by the little rubber toy that it was, essentially, cutting you off from having your release from that part of your body as well. You want to growl in frustration, but you swallow it back, instead looking up at her with pleading eyes.

  
     She just smiles, moving a hand to give more attention to your nook, commenting on how wet you are.

     “Only for you, mistress,” you sigh and she smirks at your response. Carefully, she pushes two fingers deep inside of you, watching you for your reaction. You bite your lower lip, unable to stop yourself from bucking against her hand, and she gives a soft, breathless laugh. She curls her fingers inside you and presses against a spot that makes you cry out in pleasure once more. The pleasure of her pushing her fingers in and out of you with steady movements washes over you and you curl your fingers against the palms of your hands, nails biting into your skin. But, it’s not enough to over power the nagging sensation of your bulge, which is writhing against your belly, desperate to be free of it’s own constraints. The pulse of your heart rate is matching the pulse of your appendage and, yes, it’s painful, but you steel yourself against it, setting your jaw.

     Still, you can’t help but wonder how long this will keep up until your screaming in pain, begging for her to take it off.

     As if she senses your discomfort, she wraps the fingers of her free hand slowly, one by one, around you and a shudder shoots up your spine at the touch. She smears some of your genetic material from your nook against the shaft before she replaces her fingers inside you once more, this time pushing three into you, as she begins to rub her hand slowly down your hardened length. Her other is busy pushing as deep as it can go into your clit, twisting and spreading to see just how lose she can get you.

     The sounds escaping your lips are steadily growing louder, more animalistic, as she pistons her fingers in and out of you, as she rubs you faster, harder. You can feel another orgasm building from having so much attention to two of your most sensitive parts and you will yourself not to, only knowing it will cause more pain for your already twitching bulge.

     Teasingly, she asks, “Don’t you want to cum for your mistress?”

     “Y-yes,” your voice is breathless, “y-yes, mistress, I would love nothing more!”

     Your mind is hazy with pleasure, edged with the dull pain caused by the cock ring, and you can’t help but writhe against her, despite just telling yourself earlier to take it easy.

     She bends low once more, flicking her tongue out against the tip of your shaft before whispering, “Cum for me, pet.” it wasn’t a request — it was a demand.  
You’re all too happy to oblige once her lips wrap around your writhing appendage and you cry out at the feeling. Her tongue wraps itself around it, she takes as much of you as she can in your mouth, while her fingers continue to grind into your greedy, sensitive flesh of your nook. She crooks her fingers inside you once more, rubbing almost cruelly against the spot that had made you cry out earlier and you’re seeing spots dance around your vision as another violent shiver wracks your body. You’re not sure if you’re yelling or begging or what anymore — any noise coming from you is beyond incomprehensible as you reach the peak of another orgasm. Your muscles spasm around her as you cum, again, and she just gives another little mischievous smirk as she pulls away, watching you twitch and writhe with a dark satisfaction.

     The pent up orgasm from your bulge is bordering on unbearable, but just tolerable enough to where you won’t plead for her to take it off. Not yet at least. You know this is what she wants, you know this is what she likes, and you would never want to take away such pleasure from her. Especially since she was so kind to please you herself.

     Propping herself back up on her knees, she leans over you and you shudder at the feel of your bulge pressed so tightly between your belly and her own. She smears your own blue, genetic material across your lips and you happily lick away every last trace of it, looking up at her with glazed, needy eyes, panting heavily.  
But, you know she’s not done, not with the way she stands before you, lowering her skirt and kicking the article away from them. Your mouth hangs agape, wondering if this truly was about to happen, if the day where she would finally allow you to pleasure her would come.

     You should know better by know.

     She straddles your hips, just below your bulge, and pulls her panties aside just enough to show her own nook, just barely glistening with her own genetic material. You can see her own bulge, hard and flat against her own belly, though you are sure it’s definitely not from anything you could have done. No, it was probably the teasing you, of nearly driving you over the edge.

     She teasingly begins to grind her hips, her moistened nook, against your bulge and you groan, louder this time, at the completely new sensation. She sets her hands on your chest for balance as she continues to grind against you slowly, teasingly, never letting your wriggling appendage inside of her. No, she would rather do this, let you feel what you could never have. Of the sweet warmth, of the sweet wetness of her folds you’ve so longed to bury yourself into.

     You think a plea escapes your lips, but you’re not sure, too stupefied by the waves of pleasure that gripped at your every nerve.

     “Is this what you want?” she whispers, voice breathless, needy. “Is this what you dream of, Equius? Of this sweet moment where you could fuck me until I’m screaming ragged? Of the moment you can prove to me just how much of a man you are?” she laughs, cruel, derisive, and you flinch.

     “Pathetic,” she spits at you and you turn your face away, swallowing hard. “How could I ever degrade myself by doing such a thing?” her movements are steadily growing quicker, her wet lips enough to drive you mad.

She cups your chin once more, finger tips digging into your skin as she forces you to look at her once more.

     “Tell me, is this what you get yourself off to at night? Is this what you think of when you at the dead of night with your hands on your bulge? Do you imagine me moaning your name? Pleading for more?” her tongue is sharp, words sharper and you can’t help but feel a sense of shame sweep through you. You try to look away, but her grip is too tight.

     “You’re not answering me,” and, as if to drive you further over the edge, she wraps her fingers around your bulge, allowing just the tip to push inside of her and you whimper.

     “Yes, mistress, yes!” you whine, wishing she would put more of you inside of her. “Please, mistress, p-please don’t toy with me, I can—”

     “I didn’t ask for what you can or cannot too,” she hisses, eyes flashing annoyance. “Tell me, boy, tell me how much you want this~” there is lilt of amusement to her tone and you flush once more with your embarrassment. You know, no matter the out come, she will only ridicule you further, but you can’t help yourself.

     “I dream of pleasuring you the way you pleasure me. Of returning the favor. Mistress has made me feel so good, I just wish to please mistress in the same way. I think of you on my face, hips grinding against my tongue, pleading for more. I dream of burying myself inside your warmth, of feeling you tremble against me, of your nails raking down my skin. I— I—” your words are cut off as your mind blurs with pleasure when she allows another inch of you inside her and she just laughs.

     “Tell me how much you need this.”

     Your voice is hoarse, unsteady, and it’s hard to form a coherent sentence with the way she grinds against you, with the way your cock twitches with pent up orgasms. It was definitely beginning to pain you once more and you’re panting, twisting against her.

     “I-I need this. Mistress, please, just this once. I will show you that I can bring you so much pleasure, of how you will not be displeased by me,” you groan, bucking against her.

     She licks her lips, chuckling.

     This was so inappropriate. Never in your life would you ever speak of such things allowed, but you find that you can’t help yourself and it makes it all the more exciting, bringing you even more to another orgasm. She’s so wet against you with the way she drags clit against you, with the way she has only allowed you a few inches of entry.

     “Do you want to fuck me, Equius?” she asks tauntingly and you nod eagerly, eyes clouded with lust, body filled with need.

     “Please, mistress, p-please,” you plead, looking at her as if she were your last chance of salvation, and she just laughs again. The sound is cold, cruel, but tinged with amusement.

     “Say it,” she demands. “Say you want to fuck me.”

     You sweat harder now, never one to use such uncouth language, but you’re hanging on a sliver of a thread that maybe, just maybe, if you tell her how much you want her, maybe she will let this happen. Your cock is throbbing so painfully now that your wincing with the pain.

     “I want to. I want to fuck you, please,” your words are high, needy, and you’re nearly keening.

     A look of satisfaction crosses her faces and you feel a faint glimmer of hope, until she pulls those few precious inches of your bulge out of her. Instead, she contents herself on riding against your bulge, so quickly, so hard, that soon enough your screaming out in ecstasy as another orgasm rockets through you. Your bulge is squeezing painfully tight against the ring and you’re whimpering now from the pain, pleading for her to take it off, to let you have her release.

     You don’t think you can stand another moment; you feel like you might explode from the pent up cum, and it hurts more than you had ever thought possible. The pain was throbbing all through your body, but you are rewarded when she stands and slips the ring off of you. And it all comes rushing out in waves, splattering your chest with the blue genetic material and you’re nearly screaming now, writhing around in fit of ecstasy until, mercifully, the last waves of your orgasms subside. You’re left panting, knees weak, body weaker, and you can’t even bring yourself to rise to your knees.

     No matter. She’s already pulling back up her skirt, packing her things, and tsking at you.

     “Perhaps if you weren’t so weak, maybe one day I will allow you the privilege to try and please me,” she gives you a withering look before she leaves you on the floor, panting, trembling, and in desperate need for more. But, she has already taken her leave.

     Your name is Equius Zahhak. And you know you will never be more than a mere play thing for the girl you love.


End file.
